Back in the U.S. of A.

The 8-day trip to the house in Roberts Creek, B.C., was, we both think, a big success.  Although I didn't get everything easily movable either disposed of, packed, or actually transported, I made enormous headway.  There are few places in this 3,000 square foot house where you open a drawer or a cupboard or look at a shelf and see many, many objects.  Ed got all his construction/building objectives met.  We've talked to the realtors (in Mexico) and they see it as best to wait until April to actually put it on the market.  And we plan to be back there in early April, god willing and the creek don't rise, as Lady Bird Johnson used to say, although she probably capitalized 'god.'

Quilting friends offered to (and did) have me bring them bags of stuff that would be truly appreciated only by other quilters and promised to get them to the right hands (this is a big quilting group, so there's always somebody who will need anything you have too much of, pretty much).  But I very much appreciated their taking the task of matching things to people out of my hands.  And our neighbors' son and his wife (we've known the son since he was in high school), who live in a local co-op housing group, offered to intermediate the distribution of any furniture that we decide we don't want, and all we'd have to do is send them digital photos of the pieces.  Couldn't have asked for a better offer.  Thus, when we left today, I locked the door with a great feeling of 'at least this part is under control at this moment.'

All the time we were there, we were mostly in the context of moving.  Because we had for the last year or more planned to sell the house this spring, none of the work we were doing seemed unexpected or painful.  No longing, advance-memories of the 18 wonderful years we've spent in the house.  We, or at least I, never felt I owned this house; just that for awhile I got to live in it and that every extra day I got there was a big gift.  Ed said the other day that he was a little surprised to realize that he is perfectly happy to spend the rest of his life, however long, doing just what he has been doing this past ten years.  No big unrealized dreams for either of us.  And giving up the house is actually pretty easy.

Now, we're back in Point Roberts.  Ed's daughters, Mia and Annika, will arive tomorrow afternoon.  Ed has plans for the Orchard House work, where George is, as I write, moving things along.  I suspect my task for the week will be cooking once I unpack and store the things we did bring down with us from the house.  And maybe I'll get some time in on sanding and painting kitchen cabinets.  But we are only a week away from the surgery in Bellingham, with an expected hospitalization of 4-5 days.  I asked my old friend and colleague, Corrine Bayley, if I ought to ask her to come and spend some time with me at the hospital.  She said I definitely should.  So I've asked her and she said yes and I am happy to think that during that tense time I will have at hand not only an old and trusted friend, but a former hospital V.P.  (Saint Joseph of Orange hospitals).  Probably nobody ought to go to a hospital without a hospital V.P. in support.